


Staying In

by thecarlysutra



Series: Storm Universe [2]
Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Date Night, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soft Boys, sick day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 05:05:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19202464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: Things are getting serious, and Maverick knows he has to do something to step up his dating game.  Ice ends up ruining it, through no fault of his own.Written for Slash the Drabble prompt #529,date night.





	Staying In

  
Things are getting serious, and Maverick knows he has to do something to step up his game. Ice complains about a lot of stuff about Maverick, but never the way Maverick’s wooing him, but it’s not exactly like Ice is big on sharing what he’s feeling, especially when love is involved. And on a personal level, Maverick thinks he may actually owe it to Ice—maybe even to the both of them—to start acting like he gives a damn.

He makes reservations at a steakhouse in downtown San Diego, the kind of place that requires men to wear a jacket to even come in the door. He catches Ice before he heads out early for his physical therapy appointment to inform him of the impending romance. 

Ice raises a brow. Does he—does he look impressed? “Wow, Mitchell, stepping up your game? I can’t say I’m going to put out more because of it, though.”

He promises to be ready for Maverick to pick him up at seven thirty. 

It’s about quarter ’til seven, and Maverick is agonizing over his wardrobe when the phone rings.

“Hello?”

“I feel like such an asshole,” Ice sighs on the other end, “but we’re going to have to reschedule.”

Under normal circumstances, Maverick would immediately accuse him of having cold feet, but right now, he doesn’t feel like making fun of him at all. Ice sounds _hurt_ , and Maverick’s sole reaction is worry.

“What’s going on, man?” he asks.

“I, um, I pushed it too hard at therapy, and I’m …”

“You hurt yourself.”

“Yeah,” he answers softly. “I’m sorry, Mav. I appreciate the thought, but I just can’t tonight.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Take a pain pill, maybe two, and fall asleep in front of the TV.” 

“Okay,” Maverick says. “I hope you feel better.”

“Thanks, Mav. See you tomorrow. Or—or I’ll call if I can’t make that, either.” 

“Sure, Tom. Take care of yourself.”

The line goes dead. Maverick cancels the reservation, and he dresses down, and he thinks of what he’s going to do with himself tonight.

It takes him way too long to figure it out.

***

Maverick lets himself into Ice’s with the key Ice gave him, and then shouts, “Don’t move!” 

From the living room, there’s a muffled, “What the fuck, Maverick?” but Ice doesn’t get off the couch.

Maverick hauls things into the foyer—he had to take a cab—and then he checks on Ice. His hair is a mess and his eyes are a little glassy, and he doesn’t look annoyed, just confused. He’s still in his workout clothes, and taking in the scene together, Maverick can do this math: Ice felt too bad even to take a shower, and he took two pain pills, not one.

“It’s date night,” Maverick says cheerfully. “You’re not up for going out, so I thought I’d come to you.”

“Maverick—”

Maverick leans down, cups Ice’s face in his palm, and kisses him softly. Ice relaxes.

“Okay,” he says. “What’s the plan?”

Maverick pulls himself off the couch, though it’s hard with Ice there so soft and warm and sleepy. “Give me a few minutes to set up, and I’ll come get you.”

“Set up _what_?” Ice demands, but Maverick is already down the hall.

***

About forty minutes later, the two of them are laying together in Ice’s bed. Ice has his head on Maverick’s shoulder—the morphine makes him so soft and agreeable, sometimes Maverick wishes he’d take it every day—and Maverick is running his fingers through Ice’s hair. They’ve eaten the takeout Maverick brought, and they’re watching a shitty action movie that Ice keeps laughing at (that would be the morphine, too.) 

“I can’t believe you bought all this stuff, Maverick.”

Maverick shrugs. “You’ve been living on a boat for the past decade, Kazansky; people have TVs in the bedroom now.”

“And VCRs? You bought me a fucking VCR.”

“Welcome to the ’90s, Ice.”

Ice murmurs wordlessly and snuggles in, his body so warm and pleasant against Maverick’s. There’s no way they’re having sex tonight, and this is not at all how Maverick pictured the evening going.

It’s a pretty perfect date night, though.  



End file.
